


Missions Accomplished

by fluffernutter8



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Slice of Life, Steggy Positivity Week 2017, pretty much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-07 00:09:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11047218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffernutter8/pseuds/fluffernutter8
Summary: Steve and Peggy come home from work.





	Missions Accomplished

“Steve?”

He hears Peggy come into the apartment– the routine sounds of the door and her keys on the counter, her footsteps, her inquiring call– but cannot make himself move from his position facedown in the bed. He does manage a mumbled “grrm,” although even Peggy might not be able to hear or interpret that, muffled as it is by the covers.

“Oh good, you’re here.” From the bedroom doorway, he can now hear the exhaustion in her voice. There’s a swishing sound as she removes her dress, and then she collapses onto the bed with him. When they’d bought the new place, one of their only requirements had been a bedroom big enough to hold a king mattress. Peggy seems to either forget or ignore all the room for her; she lies sideways, so that he imagines her feet folding over the edge of the bed, and rests her cheek against his back. He’s been trying to avoid having any extraneous contact with anything– he usually wears at least boxers because he tends to have more emergencies in his life than the average person and it helps to start out somewhat clothed, but he didn’t even bother to put anything after his shower– but the way she rests against him actually makes him smile into the bed.

He turns his face to the side so she can actually hear his voice. “When did you get back?”

“Ninety minutes ago. Traffic was a bear.”

“How was Geneva?”

There’d come a point, fairly quickly after she’d found herself in the future, that Peggy had gotten fed up with Nick Fury and his seeming inability to figure out how to appropriately manage and publicize the Avengers as a group, not to mention liaising with other agencies. So she’d taken that off his plate, giving herself a title (“Communications Coordinator”– no matter how much invisibility had bothered her in her own time, she had to admit that underestimation and the element of surprise helped; after a while, when no one in the intelligence or law enforcement communities was fooled anyway, her business card merely read “Peggy Carter”) and establishing herself as the only person who was in contact with the Avengers at all times.

Since she and Steve had exposed the existence of Hydra within SHIELD, she’d been doing quite a lot of work with rebuilding the reputation of the organization. Her previous publicity efforts with the Avengers had been successful enough that they were mostly saved from the fallout, but even she had been hard pressed to get anyone to agree that the World Security Council had been effective. These days she’d been doing significantly more work with the United Nations than either of them would have liked.

“The first three days were a true waste of time, but I think I actually got them to listen at the end.” Her voice felt satisfied against his skin. “However, I’m not sure it was worth the flight to Switzerland. For all its faults, at least the WSC took advantage of technology of convenience.”

“Maybe the UN thinks that was their problem,” he suggests dryly. He almost wants to turn over and hold her, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it.

“Mmm.” They both lie there, just breathing for a bit, before she says, “Judging from the frigid temperatures, you haven’t been home for long.”

“Got back about an hour before you did,” he says.

“Turn over,” she commands, lifting her face from his back. “Let’s see the damage.”

He sighs, but obeys. She moves up the bed a bit so she can get a better look. He’s healing fast and she has quite a good poker face, but a wince darts across her features.

He lets out an exhale of laughter. “That bad, huh?”

“Just here.” She touches very gently at his cheeks, so lightly that the sensation is half anticipation, dramatic and magnified. She runs a thumb toward the sunburn below his eyes. “And here.”

“It was worse when we left Bolivia. Tony alternated redcoat and Communist jokes all the way home. And not to be the teacher’s pet, but any chance you can get him to actually upgrade the suit to be practical?”

Despite his best efforts, he’s losing the lovely calm of the two of them in their blessedly cool (alright, subzero) bedroom. He’s been a member of the Avengers for four years now, and more to the point, he’s known Tony Stark for four years now. So he knows that Tony knows that his temperature stays naturally higher than average, and that the serum might help him heal faster, but has done nothing about his Irish skin and its propensity for burning in the first place. He’s seen Tony come up with customizable tea bags in an afternoon. Four years seems like long enough to design a suit made of temperature adjusting (or even just _breathable_ ) material, and hoping for some kind of sunscreen doesn’t seem out of line either. After getting boiled in his own sweat for four miserable days, Thor and Hawkeye had seemed smarter and smarter, except that, if his face is anything to judge by, if he’d bared his arms, he probably wouldn’t be able to lift them.

Peggy pets his hair. “I suppose I can speak to Tony. And I might even let you keep the house on arctic for a bit longer too.” Her voice drops a little. “If you do something for me.”

He’s completely wiped out, and his skin, apart from probably still looking awful, is at that horrible itchy phase that means that it’s healing in earnest, but he perks up despite himself. “What kind of something for you?”

“Foot massage,” she says instantly, her voice heavy with longing. “Seventy–two hours of heels isn’t as easy as I make it look.”

He freezes, staring at her for a split second, then shakes his head at himself ruefully. “Shouldn’t keep falling for it, Rogers,” and he hauls himself up. Peggy, in a camisole, underwear, and goosebumps (she might have come in overheated, but it clearly didn’t last as long for her) maneuvers herself onto her back, placing her foot gracefully and gleefully in his hand.

“We have the housewarming tomorrow,” she reminds him after a few languid moments.

He groans. He doesn’t really know why they have to have the party by this point– they’ve been in the apartment for five months, and almost everyone’s seen it already– but this is the first time they’ve actually both been there on the scheduled or rescheduled date. “Let’s hide and say we’re not home,” he suggests.

She laughs, and rolls her eyes, and says, “I think they’ll see through that. But I’ll use it as an opportunity to mention the suit to Tony, if you’d like.”

“I guess,” he says grudgingly, pressing a point that brings a particularly wonderful sound from her. “But I’m not getting any of those cheese things he likes.”

“You like those cheese things too.”

This is true. “Fine. But I’m keeping you to myself until then.”

She shifts, stretching deliciously, smiling up at him through closing lids. “Well,” she says, “I suppose I can’t argue with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 4 of Steggy Positivity Week 2017. Your choice re: why Peggy is in the future.


End file.
